MAES 49: See Me Now
AN: I was a little mad that when Jack and Phillip meet up at the end of Wine-Dark Sea, there’s no sort of any reunion scene between them. We just get the midshipman yelling across at Jack that Phillip is aboard, and then it cuts to after dinner, when Jack is saying what a pleasant fellow Phillip has become under Dundas’s command. There was definitely more to it than that. Also, what happened on Phillip’s first voyage?
See me Now
One of his earliest shipmates and closest acquaintances, Heneage Dundas, had already earned himself the name of Vinegar Joe throughout the service…
-The Ionian Mission, pg. 328, Norton Press paperback
-
And those months, so wretched at first and indeed most of the time, had also given him something that few officers possessed: an intimate understanding of life at sea from the men’s point of view, a comprehension from within. He knew their language, spoken and silent;…
-The Mauritius Command, pg. 112, Norton Press paperback
0~0
When Philip Aubrey left school for the last time, it was without a single twinge of remorse. His mother had finally granted her permission, and, armed with Jack’s letter of recommendation, Philip went to Ashgrove cottage, there to meet with Heneage Dundas, the old friend of his brother who had agreed to take him aboard.
Heneage Dundas was higher up the Post-Captain’s list than Jack, and Phillip had heard that was so only because of family influence. Had it not been for Jack’s speaking so well of him, Phillip would have been a little more wary about joining his command: Jack’s lecture on family influence had had a profound effect on him. But Jack had assured him that Dundas was a seaman through and through, that they had sailed together since they were boys, and there was no-one he would sooner trust. George Aubrey, Phillip’s nephew, would also start his naval career with Dundas, if Jack had his way.
Throughout their first dinner at Ashgrove, Phillip watched Dundas, comparing him to Jack. No-one could ever equal his brother, in Phillip’s opinion, but Dundas didn’t seem a bad sort; indeed, he cut a fine figure and spoke in an authoritative manner that suggested he was accustomed to being obeyed.
Dundas seemed to Phillip to be making a particular effort to be nice to him, which worried Phillip a little. Would it be like this aboard, would Dundas’s kindness to him mark him out as a favorite even if Phillip never topped it the knob or mentioned Jack?
When Dundas asked Phillip if there was any particular question he had about naval life, or what to expect aboard, Phillip asked, “You aren’t going to treat me special and single me out, are you sir? Because if you are, I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want any favors sir, or particular treatment. I want to prove myself as good as any other, and I can’t do that if you coddle me, sir.”
Dundas barked a laugh. “I see Jack was right about you. No, I won’t give you any particular treatment, unless it’s the sort you need to become a good officer. I won’t have any spoiled brats on my quarterdeck; I’ll tell you that now, young sir.”
Phillip sighed in relief.
0~0
Had Phillip not been so excited, so determined in this goal, he might well have abandoned ship at the first landfall after leaving England. To be sure, there was a certain similarity to school in the midshipman’s berth, but the overall hierarchy of the ship was more complex. Captain Dundas was unquestionably at the top; on the next tier were the commissioned officers, then the warrant officers, then the petty officers. Although Phillip technically belonged to the second tier, he had no true commission, and was subordinate in certain matters to even the petty officers among the crew, though they all saluted him perfunctorily.
If Jack had not advised him not to be too proud, he might have chafed under these restrictions. But Phillip was honest enough with himself to admit the experience and knowledge of even the lowest man aboard far outweighed his own, and although he might one day rise to the pinnacle of naval rank with a post-captains’ commission while most never would, they were all worthy of his respect, while he would have to work hard to earn theirs.
Although they all knew of his famous naval relation (it would have been impossible to hide) Phillip never spoke of Jack to anyone but Dundas unless he was asked first, and he never spoke proudly or boasted of being brother to Jack. He answered what questions he could, and never implied that he would be sure to be as good someday.
His first real test was his first storm. The Bay of Biscay far outdid the tales the hands had told. At one point he was so seasick he wanted to die, yet all through the storm he had to keep moving, far beyond the point he thought it even possible to go on. He still couldn’t remember the end of that storm: one moment he was on deck, soaked through, so exhausted he could hardly stagger. The next - or so it seemed - he was waking in his hammock, and knew even before he opened his eyes that the sea was calmer.
Captain Dundas invited him to breakfast and asked how he had liked his first storm. Without thinking Phillip blurted, “I was supposed to like it sir?” which made the others roar with laughter. “Not at first perhaps,” Dundas admitted. “The first storm is always the worst. Next time, you’ll know you can survive, no matter how hard it seems at the time.”
Dundas’s words proved prophetic. The next storm hit a few weeks later, far out in the Atlantic. To his amazement, Phillip found he was not as tired, although he worked even harder, and he didn’t get seasick at all. The previous experience had strengthened him greatly. By the time they rounded the Cape, Phillip thought he could make it through any storm. He gave up on this belief halfway through the high Southern latitudes and it was a true shock to him when the first day of clear weather arrived and he realized he had survived this as well.
Although Phillip didn’t know it for a long time, Jack had told Dundas to turn Phillip before the mast on the first justifiable opportunity. It was only when they were some weeks away from reaching Botany Bay that Dundas took Phillip aside for a private conversation and told him Jack had wanted this done. When Phillip’s face fell in dismay, Dundas hastily explained that Jack had wanted Phillip to understand the service on all levels, and that could only happen if he experienced personally all the levels of naval life.
“The problem is, Phillip, that unless you suffered an abrupt change of character, I don’t think you’d commit any sin heinous enough to call for such a demotion, even if I were the worst stickler in the service.” Phillip hid a smile; he knew Dundas’s nickname of Vinegar Joe to be well deserved.
“However, I know Jack is anxious you should be a knowledgeable officer, and in certain respects that can’t happen without such an experience.”
“Are you asking me to behave in such a way as to get myself turned before the mast, sir?”
“Not unless you wish it.” said Dundas evasively.
Phillip understood. Dundas did not want to directly order that Phillip help him keep his promise to Jack, yet he too knew the value of such an education as could only be found on the lower deck of the ship. He was leaving the choice to Phillip.
“I shall consider what you have told me. Good night, sir.”
In the end, there was only one choice Phillip could make: he wanted to be like Jack, and if his brother’s lower deck education had helped make him who he was, then it was necessary for Phillip to be demoted for a time and receive the same.
The next evening, Captain Dundas discovered several dead and stinking fish in his cot, knots tied in the sleeves of his spare shirts and the legs of his breeches, and ink spilled on his pillow. When he called the hands on deck, it was obvious that none but Mr. Aubrey could be responsible: the boy stank of bad fish and there were ink stains on his fingertips.
Dundas played his role perfectly. “What do you mean by it sir?” he roared, red-faced. “This is the height of disrespect!”
Phillip nonchalantly put his hands in his pockets - nearly a hanging offense in Dundas’s eyes - and pulled a face. “’Twas no more than a prank, sir. I thought it’d be good for you to be put out of temper for something more serious than a badly rolled hammock. Be good to restore your humors, Ol’ Vinegar Joe.”
“Brash impudence!” Dundas practically shrieked. “You are henceforth disrated, and will berth and mess with the crew until such time as you repent your behavior and I see fit to restore you. If that should happen at all!” Phillip’s messmates in the berth looked at him gloomily. In their minds no fate was worse than being disrated.
Within a fortnight of joining the men of the lower deck, Phillip knew why it was Jack had wanted him to experience this. There was an entirely different world in existence right under the noses of the officers, and Phillip found himself wondering how any captain who had not started on the lower deck could possibly understand the first thing about his crew, for how else could he have learned to understand and speak that largely nonverbal language by which the crew shared their thoughts and feelings with each other? How could a captain who could not read his men truly be a captain at all?
Far from resenting Jack for asking Dundas to do this, Phillip was grateful to him for ensuring he would go through this part of naval life, although it was hardly an easy set of lessons to learn. Phillip learned more about the personal lives and habits of the lower deck men than he had ever wished to know, and overheard a good many conversations about women that made him blush to the roots of his hair.
A week after leaving Botany Bay, Dundas restored him to the rank of midshipman, and the first time he stood in his uniform for muster, he might have been going through the ceremony for the first time, watching the sailors communicate silently with each other as Dundas made his rounds, and knowing what it was they were saying.
Botany Bay had provided the news that Captain Aubrey himself had been there some time before, and according to certain sources in the naval yard, he’d had an even harder time than Dundas in getting supplies. There was some wild tale about Doctor Maturin murdering some official who had knocked some of his teeth out, but Phillip wasn’t sure he believed this.
The idea that he might realize his dream of meeting up with Jack out in the vastness of the ocean somewhere sprang up from the depths of Phillip’s heart, and he cursed every delay, even the discovery of an abandoned schooner, the Ringle, found empty and perfectly seaworthy a few weeks after they turned south for Cape Horn.
0~0
All along her side the schooner’s hands stood grinning, staring, making offensive gestures: the Surprises looked back with stony hatred.
‘Come aboard with your papers,’ said the midshipman.
‘Take that American contraption back to the Berenice,’ roared Jack, half-way down the ratlines, ‘and tell Captain Dundas with Captain Aubrey’s compliments that he will wait upon him. D’ye hear me there?’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied the midshipman, and on either side of him the simpering stopped dead. ‘Aye aye, sir: Captain Aubrey’s compliments…Sir,’ he called across the widening lane, ‘may I say Phillip Aubrey is aboard?’
-The Wine-Dark Sea, pg. 335-6, Norton Press paperback
0~0
Phillip was not on deck when he heard the hail go out. He’d been lying in his cot, resting after standing watch most of the night. He had hardly felt so tired, he thought, laying his head down, and didn’t think anything short of a battle or a storm could wake him up.
That was before he heard that familiar and most beloved voice answering the hail in a furious roar, and he was out of his hammock and reaching for his uniform coat before he was even properly awake.
When he came bursting onto the deck, at first he thought he must be imagining things. Surely that disgraceful wreck of a frigate could not possible be captained by his brother? But there was no mistaking the identity of that tall, powerful figure moving determinedly about his ship, giving orders, and the now quieter tones of his voice, echoing across the water.
Captain Dundas ordered the midshipmen and officers to receive Jack properly, and they all lined up in their appropriate places. Phillip forced back the excitement. This was it: his first chance to show Jack how much he had improved, how much he had learned. It took an agonizingly long time for Jack to come over in the Berenice’s own barge, and he felt a little ashamed for Jack at Dundas’s teasing. Jack did not seem to take it ill, however, and when he came onto the deck he greeted Dundas warmly.
Jack looked different than when Phillip had last seen him. thinner, more haggard, unshaved, and it was clear one of his eyes had been wounded recently for the skin around it was mottled and a little swollen. He was obviously exhausted as well, but Phillip thought he had every right to be, given the state of his ship. When he recognized Phillip, however, his face broke into a smile that made all other details seem inconsequential. Phillip raised his hand in a salute, fighting the more natural urge to run to his brother and embrace him. Jack returned the salute, but spoke to Dundas. “I see you’ve taken excellent care of my brother, Hen. I do thank you for it.”
“Not at all, Jack. It was a pleasure to have him aboard. I’ll give you a full report later, but for now I think you and the young fellow would appreciate it if I released him from his duty so he can greet you properly. Mr. Aubrey,” he said, turning to Phillip, “stand down, sir.”
Jack smiled at Dundas; his own features relaxing a trifle, he bent slightly and opened his arms. “Come here, then.”
Taking his long-awaited cue, Phillip dropped all pretenses at ceremony and ran into his brother’s embrace. An instant before Jack caught and lifted him high, Phillip noticed his brother did not seem so tall as he had the last time they’d met.
“Good Heavens, boy, you have grown, haven’t you?” Jack said in his ear, so only Phillip could hear him.
Feeling so happy he thought his heart would burst, Phillip turned his head and kissed his brother’s whiskery cheek, noting that his scent seemed not to have changed at all, and not caring how much his shipmates teased him for this later.
0~0
Stephen, Pullings and Philip withdrew from their splendid dinner quite early, Stephen carrying his pepper; and Jack said, ‘Old Hen, what a pleasant young fellow you have made of Phillip. I am so grateful.’
‘Not at all,’ said Dundas. ‘He might have been born to the sea. Cobbold says he will rate him master’s mate in Hyperion, next year, if you would like it.’
‘I should like it very much indeed. It is time he was out of leading-strings, though yours I am sure were the kindest in the world.’
-The Wine-Dark Sea, pg. 337, Norton Press paperback
See me Now
One of his earliest shipmates and closest acquaintances, Heneage Dundas, had already earned himself the name of Vinegar Joe throughout the service…
-The Ionian Mission, pg. 328, Norton Press paperback
-
And those months, so wretched at first and indeed most of the time, had also given him something that few officers possessed: an intimate understanding of life at sea from the men’s point of view, a comprehension from within. He knew their language, spoken and silent;…
-The Mauritius Command, pg. 112, Norton Press paperback
0~0
When Philip Aubrey left school for the last time, it was without a single twinge of remorse. His mother had finally granted her permission, and, armed with Jack’s letter of recommendation, Philip went to Ashgrove cottage, there to meet with Heneage Dundas, the old friend of his brother who had agreed to take him aboard.
Heneage Dundas was higher up the Post-Captain’s list than Jack, and Phillip had heard that was so only because of family influence. Had it not been for Jack’s speaking so well of him, Phillip would have been a little more wary about joining his command: Jack’s lecture on family influence had had a profound effect on him. But Jack had assured him that Dundas was a seaman through and through, that they had sailed together since they were boys, and there was no-one he would sooner trust. George Aubrey, Phillip’s nephew, would also start his naval career with Dundas, if Jack had his way.
Throughout their first dinner at Ashgrove, Phillip watched Dundas, comparing him to Jack. No-one could ever equal his brother, in Phillip’s opinion, but Dundas didn’t seem a bad sort; indeed, he cut a fine figure and spoke in an authoritative manner that suggested he was accustomed to being obeyed.
Dundas seemed to Phillip to be making a particular effort to be nice to him, which worried Phillip a little. Would it be like this aboard, would Dundas’s kindness to him mark him out as a favorite even if Phillip never topped it the knob or mentioned Jack?
When Dundas asked Phillip if there was any particular question he had about naval life, or what to expect aboard, Phillip asked, “You aren’t going to treat me special and single me out, are you sir? Because if you are, I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t want any favors sir, or particular treatment. I want to prove myself as good as any other, and I can’t do that if you coddle me, sir.”
Dundas barked a laugh. “I see Jack was right about you. No, I won’t give you any particular treatment, unless it’s the sort you need to become a good officer. I won’t have any spoiled brats on my quarterdeck; I’ll tell you that now, young sir.”
Phillip sighed in relief.
0~0
Had Phillip not been so excited, so determined in this goal, he might well have abandoned ship at the first landfall after leaving England. To be sure, there was a certain similarity to school in the midshipman’s berth, but the overall hierarchy of the ship was more complex. Captain Dundas was unquestionably at the top; on the next tier were the commissioned officers, then the warrant officers, then the petty officers. Although Phillip technically belonged to the second tier, he had no true commission, and was subordinate in certain matters to even the petty officers among the crew, though they all saluted him perfunctorily.
If Jack had not advised him not to be too proud, he might have chafed under these restrictions. But Phillip was honest enough with himself to admit the experience and knowledge of even the lowest man aboard far outweighed his own, and although he might one day rise to the pinnacle of naval rank with a post-captains’ commission while most never would, they were all worthy of his respect, while he would have to work hard to earn theirs.
Although they all knew of his famous naval relation (it would have been impossible to hide) Phillip never spoke of Jack to anyone but Dundas unless he was asked first, and he never spoke proudly or boasted of being brother to Jack. He answered what questions he could, and never implied that he would be sure to be as good someday.
His first real test was his first storm. The Bay of Biscay far outdid the tales the hands had told. At one point he was so seasick he wanted to die, yet all through the storm he had to keep moving, far beyond the point he thought it even possible to go on. He still couldn’t remember the end of that storm: one moment he was on deck, soaked through, so exhausted he could hardly stagger. The next - or so it seemed - he was waking in his hammock, and knew even before he opened his eyes that the sea was calmer.
Captain Dundas invited him to breakfast and asked how he had liked his first storm. Without thinking Phillip blurted, “I was supposed to like it sir?” which made the others roar with laughter. “Not at first perhaps,” Dundas admitted. “The first storm is always the worst. Next time, you’ll know you can survive, no matter how hard it seems at the time.”
Dundas’s words proved prophetic. The next storm hit a few weeks later, far out in the Atlantic. To his amazement, Phillip found he was not as tired, although he worked even harder, and he didn’t get seasick at all. The previous experience had strengthened him greatly. By the time they rounded the Cape, Phillip thought he could make it through any storm. He gave up on this belief halfway through the high Southern latitudes and it was a true shock to him when the first day of clear weather arrived and he realized he had survived this as well.
Although Phillip didn’t know it for a long time, Jack had told Dundas to turn Phillip before the mast on the first justifiable opportunity. It was only when they were some weeks away from reaching Botany Bay that Dundas took Phillip aside for a private conversation and told him Jack had wanted this done. When Phillip’s face fell in dismay, Dundas hastily explained that Jack had wanted Phillip to understand the service on all levels, and that could only happen if he experienced personally all the levels of naval life.
“The problem is, Phillip, that unless you suffered an abrupt change of character, I don’t think you’d commit any sin heinous enough to call for such a demotion, even if I were the worst stickler in the service.” Phillip hid a smile; he knew Dundas’s nickname of Vinegar Joe to be well deserved.
“However, I know Jack is anxious you should be a knowledgeable officer, and in certain respects that can’t happen without such an experience.”
“Are you asking me to behave in such a way as to get myself turned before the mast, sir?”
“Not unless you wish it.” said Dundas evasively.
Phillip understood. Dundas did not want to directly order that Phillip help him keep his promise to Jack, yet he too knew the value of such an education as could only be found on the lower deck of the ship. He was leaving the choice to Phillip.
“I shall consider what you have told me. Good night, sir.”
In the end, there was only one choice Phillip could make: he wanted to be like Jack, and if his brother’s lower deck education had helped make him who he was, then it was necessary for Phillip to be demoted for a time and receive the same.
The next evening, Captain Dundas discovered several dead and stinking fish in his cot, knots tied in the sleeves of his spare shirts and the legs of his breeches, and ink spilled on his pillow. When he called the hands on deck, it was obvious that none but Mr. Aubrey could be responsible: the boy stank of bad fish and there were ink stains on his fingertips.
Dundas played his role perfectly. “What do you mean by it sir?” he roared, red-faced. “This is the height of disrespect!”
Phillip nonchalantly put his hands in his pockets - nearly a hanging offense in Dundas’s eyes - and pulled a face. “’Twas no more than a prank, sir. I thought it’d be good for you to be put out of temper for something more serious than a badly rolled hammock. Be good to restore your humors, Ol’ Vinegar Joe.”
“Brash impudence!” Dundas practically shrieked. “You are henceforth disrated, and will berth and mess with the crew until such time as you repent your behavior and I see fit to restore you. If that should happen at all!” Phillip’s messmates in the berth looked at him gloomily. In their minds no fate was worse than being disrated.
Within a fortnight of joining the men of the lower deck, Phillip knew why it was Jack had wanted him to experience this. There was an entirely different world in existence right under the noses of the officers, and Phillip found himself wondering how any captain who had not started on the lower deck could possibly understand the first thing about his crew, for how else could he have learned to understand and speak that largely nonverbal language by which the crew shared their thoughts and feelings with each other? How could a captain who could not read his men truly be a captain at all?
Far from resenting Jack for asking Dundas to do this, Phillip was grateful to him for ensuring he would go through this part of naval life, although it was hardly an easy set of lessons to learn. Phillip learned more about the personal lives and habits of the lower deck men than he had ever wished to know, and overheard a good many conversations about women that made him blush to the roots of his hair.
A week after leaving Botany Bay, Dundas restored him to the rank of midshipman, and the first time he stood in his uniform for muster, he might have been going through the ceremony for the first time, watching the sailors communicate silently with each other as Dundas made his rounds, and knowing what it was they were saying.
Botany Bay had provided the news that Captain Aubrey himself had been there some time before, and according to certain sources in the naval yard, he’d had an even harder time than Dundas in getting supplies. There was some wild tale about Doctor Maturin murdering some official who had knocked some of his teeth out, but Phillip wasn’t sure he believed this.
The idea that he might realize his dream of meeting up with Jack out in the vastness of the ocean somewhere sprang up from the depths of Phillip’s heart, and he cursed every delay, even the discovery of an abandoned schooner, the Ringle, found empty and perfectly seaworthy a few weeks after they turned south for Cape Horn.
0~0
All along her side the schooner’s hands stood grinning, staring, making offensive gestures: the Surprises looked back with stony hatred.
‘Come aboard with your papers,’ said the midshipman.
‘Take that American contraption back to the Berenice,’ roared Jack, half-way down the ratlines, ‘and tell Captain Dundas with Captain Aubrey’s compliments that he will wait upon him. D’ye hear me there?’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied the midshipman, and on either side of him the simpering stopped dead. ‘Aye aye, sir: Captain Aubrey’s compliments…Sir,’ he called across the widening lane, ‘may I say Phillip Aubrey is aboard?’
-The Wine-Dark Sea, pg. 335-6, Norton Press paperback
0~0
Phillip was not on deck when he heard the hail go out. He’d been lying in his cot, resting after standing watch most of the night. He had hardly felt so tired, he thought, laying his head down, and didn’t think anything short of a battle or a storm could wake him up.
That was before he heard that familiar and most beloved voice answering the hail in a furious roar, and he was out of his hammock and reaching for his uniform coat before he was even properly awake.
When he came bursting onto the deck, at first he thought he must be imagining things. Surely that disgraceful wreck of a frigate could not possible be captained by his brother? But there was no mistaking the identity of that tall, powerful figure moving determinedly about his ship, giving orders, and the now quieter tones of his voice, echoing across the water.
Captain Dundas ordered the midshipmen and officers to receive Jack properly, and they all lined up in their appropriate places. Phillip forced back the excitement. This was it: his first chance to show Jack how much he had improved, how much he had learned. It took an agonizingly long time for Jack to come over in the Berenice’s own barge, and he felt a little ashamed for Jack at Dundas’s teasing. Jack did not seem to take it ill, however, and when he came onto the deck he greeted Dundas warmly.
Jack looked different than when Phillip had last seen him. thinner, more haggard, unshaved, and it was clear one of his eyes had been wounded recently for the skin around it was mottled and a little swollen. He was obviously exhausted as well, but Phillip thought he had every right to be, given the state of his ship. When he recognized Phillip, however, his face broke into a smile that made all other details seem inconsequential. Phillip raised his hand in a salute, fighting the more natural urge to run to his brother and embrace him. Jack returned the salute, but spoke to Dundas. “I see you’ve taken excellent care of my brother, Hen. I do thank you for it.”
“Not at all, Jack. It was a pleasure to have him aboard. I’ll give you a full report later, but for now I think you and the young fellow would appreciate it if I released him from his duty so he can greet you properly. Mr. Aubrey,” he said, turning to Phillip, “stand down, sir.”
Jack smiled at Dundas; his own features relaxing a trifle, he bent slightly and opened his arms. “Come here, then.”
Taking his long-awaited cue, Phillip dropped all pretenses at ceremony and ran into his brother’s embrace. An instant before Jack caught and lifted him high, Phillip noticed his brother did not seem so tall as he had the last time they’d met.
“Good Heavens, boy, you have grown, haven’t you?” Jack said in his ear, so only Phillip could hear him.
Feeling so happy he thought his heart would burst, Phillip turned his head and kissed his brother’s whiskery cheek, noting that his scent seemed not to have changed at all, and not caring how much his shipmates teased him for this later.
0~0
Stephen, Pullings and Philip withdrew from their splendid dinner quite early, Stephen carrying his pepper; and Jack said, ‘Old Hen, what a pleasant young fellow you have made of Phillip. I am so grateful.’
‘Not at all,’ said Dundas. ‘He might have been born to the sea. Cobbold says he will rate him master’s mate in Hyperion, next year, if you would like it.’
‘I should like it very much indeed. It is time he was out of leading-strings, though yours I am sure were the kindest in the world.’
-The Wine-Dark Sea, pg. 337, Norton Press paperback